The First Husband

“What are you doing out here?” I asked. “Isn’t the branzino getting cold?”

Apparently, I didn’t dig deep enough.

Griffin held out the flashlight for me to take—meeting my eyes, for the first time, making me wish he hadn’t. “I thought you might need this,” he said.

“Thank you, I do. I dropped the Adami.” I turned the flashlight on, shining it at the liquid and glass all over the floor, like proof. “I dropped two of them, actually,” I said. “At least it wasn’t three. . .”

Really, someone needed to shut me up.

Griffin reached out his hand toward Nick. “And you must be Nick?” he said, a little too calmly.

“It’s good to meet you,” Nick said.

And they shook hands. They shook hands in this weird way that I thought someone might be about to get punched. But they let go, and no one was punched. Of course no one was. We were all adults here.

“I’m really sorry to just show up like this, on such an important night,” Nick said. “I didn’t know your restaurant was opening tonight. Or I didn’t know until my flight already landed, and the taxi dropped me at your house.”

“Where did you come in from?” Griffin said.

There was no way to make London sound good. No way in the world. This was probably why Nick didn’t exactly answer.

“I’m on my way to New York,” he said. “For work.”

Nick’s eyes were on me now, but I wouldn’t look at him. I was too busy looking between Griffin and the ground. The ground and Griffin. And Griffin was looking at Nick. Just at Nick. It was like musical chairs, the staring version.

“You ready for this?”

We all turned to see Jesse standing in the doorway of the increasingly crowded wine shack: Jesse, who was looking more than a little confused, and carrying a supersize bag of BAR-B-Q Fritos. Why he was munching on BAR-B-Q Fritos in the middle of his brother’s restaurant opening, I had no idea.

“Cheryl’s pregnant,” Jesse said.

“What?” I said.

I flashed the flashlight right at him, right at his eyes, Jesse hurrying to cover them.

“Turn that off,” Jesse said. “Don’t I have enough problems?”

We all have enough problems, I thought, catching Nick ’s bewildered expression out of the corner of my eye.

I clicked the useless flashlight off and put it down on a shelf, away from me, just in case I felt compelled to turn it on again.

Jesse, meanwhile, was shaking his head.

“I can’t even believe it. I mean, can you? I pick up the telephone tonight, and, bear in mind, this is the first time she’s called in weeks without immediately asking to speak to the little guys and, I’m like, ‘Hello there, wife,’ and she was like, ‘I’m not calling for small talk, I’m pregnant, you asshole!’ Like it’s my fault . . . well, in a way, I guess it is.” He paused, noticing Nick. “Who is this guy?”

“Jesse,” Griffin said, interrupting his brother, patting him on the back. “Come on. Let’s go inside and talk about this.”

“I don’t want to go inside and talk about this,” Jesse said. “I want to talk about this here. Where the good booze is!”

“Well, I’m going back in,” Griffin said. “I have a restaurant of hungry people waiting. So if you’ll excuse me . . .”

And, with that, he turned to leave.

“Griffin . . .” I said, calling after him.

Maybe I should have followed him. But all I could do was stand there as he started through the alleyway, my heart dropping as he went. I could feel it dropping all the way down to my stomach. Just watching him go.

“What’s up with him?” Jesse said, turning back to me. “I’m the one here with child. Two, apparently!”